Eternity's Waiting
by katiebug0410
Summary: Speculation one shots written over the course of the Framework arc. / You are Real: Daisy wakes up in a strange new world. / You are Here: After being hurt in Aida's demise, Jemma and Fitz heal together.
1. You are Real

**Please review!**

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Daisy's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the sleeping bundle of blankets. _Lincoln_. She padded softly towards him, hope fluttering in her heart. Entranced by the unmoving figure, she bumped into the side of the bed, banging her shins on the frame. The movement caused him to stir, and he turned towards Daisy, exposing his face.

She backpedaled to the closet doors, and barely had time to shove her fist in her mouth before she could scream. Ward lifted his face, eyes still closed, and murmured, "Skye?"

Panting, Daisy rushed back to the safety of the bathroom, the carpet masking her panicked footsteps. She locked the door, and leaned against it, slowly sinking to the floor. The air seemed stifling and sticky, a struggle for her lungs to inhale. Her quick breathing did nothing to help the suffocating feeling.

"I need to calm down," she whispered to herself. An anxiety attack would only make matters worse, but she couldn't stop the overwhelming flood of emotion: disappointment, frustration, and fear. "It's Ward, only Ward." Talking aloud seemed to help. "It's not Hive. He can't control me." Daisy folded her legs up under her chin, clasping her arms around her robed knees. "It's only some twisted reality of Aida's. I can take it." Exhaling slowly, she stood up. "I can take anything."

As she stood up, her knees almost gave away, and she slammed against the door, jabbing herself in the side with the knob. "Come on, Daisy," she muttered. She glanced in the mirror to the side of her head, and grimaced. Unkempt hair hung limp by her pale face only colored by splotchy cheeks. _Anxiety's ugly._

A cup on the counter had a yellow toothbrush in it, and Daisy grabbed it, quickly swabbing it in her mouth. _At least the toothpaste here is the same._

After finishing her toilette, she finally unlocked the door, carefully peeking out. Ward was still snoozing, so Daisy crept out to the dresser near the foot of the bed. A quick search informed her that her clothes belonged in the closet. _Of course_.

As quietly as she could, she inched open the wooden closet doors; despite her caution, the hinges still creaked. Ward shifted again, and she took it as a sign to move quickly. Gathering some clothing items that would look somewhat decent together, she scurried back to the bathroom.

"Skye?"

 _Crap_. "We're being called in!" _Slam._

Once back in her haven, Daisy congratulated herself on only speaking half an octave higher than usual. She slipped into the outfit she'd picked out. Most of it was her normal style: easy to move in, and black, with an olive green jacket for her arms. Hopefully this was a normal outfit for her Framework avatar.

She pocketed the phone that had fallen to the ground in her shock, and opened the bathroom door again, ready to face Ward this time.

 _Maybe I'm not so ready_ , she thought, as she smacked into a shirtless Ward changing at the dresser. "Morning," he greeted with an easy laugh.

Daisy let out her own nervous laugh. "Hey."

He pouted, moving even closer to her and encircling her in his arms. "What, no good morning kiss?"

Daisy ducked as he leaned towards her face. "You haven't brushed your teeth yet!" she exclaimed quickly. He grinned and released her, but she remained as tense as she had been in the close encounter. _Okay, it's okay._

He tugged on a shirt, then entered the bathroom, leaving the door at only a crack. Daisy looked around to see what else she could take. A laptop and its supplies were heaped on the desk, along with a leather portfolio. Glancing at the bathroom to ensure her safety, she picked up the portfolio first. It contained several files, all with an octopus logo stamped in the corner. She sucked in her breath. _Is this mine or Ward's?_

Her answer appeared in the first file: Research Compilation for Skye and Grant Ward. _So both of us_. She quickly skimmed through the data, trying to get some sort of feel for the things she'd need to know. It mostly consisted of people, with several events sprinkled in. Ward came back out just as she finished the last file. "What are you doing?"

She tossed the folder into the portfolio nonchalantly. "Refreshing my memory."

He nodded, flashing her a devilish grin. "I guess we were a little too busy to do that last night, huh?"

Daisy froze her face in a plastic smile as she inwardly gagged. "Yep. Just a little."

He zipped up the portfolio. "Grab your laptop, and let's go." She shoved the laptop and charging cord in the bag, and followed mutely.

In the parking garage, Daisy clambered into the black truck after Ward. The drive out of the structure and on to the main road was silent. She discretely but casually checked through her phone for more evidence about the strange world she was invading. Although past messages were still logged on the phone, no contacts were listed, which meant only Skye was knowledgeable in that area.

Ward obviously knew what he was doing in the late morning traffic. The sun shone brightly in a clear sky, illuminating pale buildings over the horizon of the highway. The city was familiar, but not enough that she recognized it until she saw a tall spire piercing the atmosphere. _The Washington Monument._ So they were in D.C.

An interesting thought struck Daisy. The Triskelion was located in Washington, and had been S. H. I. E. L. D. headquarters. It was possible that it belonged to HYDRA, now.

"You've been uncharacteristically quiet today," Ward remarked. "Normally you're making plans for dinner right now."

She bit her lip and glanced out the window at the racing landscape. "I-I had a bad dream. About Simmons?" She would sound really dumb if he didn't know who that was. But if he did, maybe he could tell her.

Fortunately, his face softened. "Oh, Skye. Why didn't you tell me? I know you miss her."

Daisy turned. "Do you think we could visit her later?"

Ward hesitated, but agreed. "Yeah. Let's plan doing it tonight. We'll talk to the Director about borrowing a jet."

 _I wonder where she is_. "Thank you. It means a lot to me." Ward sighed and continued driving.

As they wove through cars on the road, Daisy learned that her musings were correct. The white Triskelion loomed in the near distance, but the appearance was slightly different from the real world's. It was shorter, and while some of the building was bright, other places had remnants of scorch marks, as though it had been rebuilt after an explosion; and rather than the S. H. I. E. L. D. eagle emblazoned at the top, it was the HYDRA logo again.

They arrived, and walked in a set of doors as easy as though it were a mall. A large indoor plaza greeted them, and nicely-dressed people milled around. Daisy lagged behind Ward as they walked through, and he grabbed her hand, startling her out of her sightseeing. "Are you sure you're okay?" he murmured. He actually sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay, well we're going this way," he said, steering her from the main path.

"Right."

Entering a hallway that branched from the glass courtyard, they entered another that looked more like an airport check. After being scanned by a security guard, they gave her a clip-on badge, which she attached to her jacket. As they were walking away, another agent rushed through, hitting Daisy as he dashed past. "Sorry- Skye! We've got a meeting and you know how the Director is!"

Ward's eyes narrowed. "Thanks, Williams." He checked his phone, and chuckled after scrolling. "In five minutes. We're fine."

Walking hand-in-hand down the corridor, Daisy pondered this world. At first, existing in the same area with Grant Ward made her want to puke in disgust, but her opinion had changed slightly. This Ward seemed to genuinely care about her, and not in a crazy way, but in a loving way. Not that she'd ever love him back, for a million reasons, but she could tolerate him. And use him.

Lost in thought, she let Ward lead them to a conference room, where they sat in office chairs around a table. She scanned the room for familiar faces, but found none, until a door opening broke the mumble of conversation from the other employees. Ward squeezed her hand, and she glanced at him, then the newcomer, and her jaw dropped.


	2. You are Here

**Holy spades, this came out way longer than intended. Nice.**

 **Speculation for tonight and next week's episode. Enjoy, and review!**

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The flaming skull of the Ghost Rider sparked and spat furiously as Robbie, what once was Robbie, stepped towards Aida. Jemma hid behind a supply shelf, watching, the shadows shielding her body from view.

With Daisy's help, after the rescue of the rest of their team, she had tracked down where Aida had taken Fitz. An empty warehouse, a former clinic, one that had belonged to Radcliffe. There were still boxes with medical supplies littered around the place, and clear, plastic sheets hung around empty gurneys, probably leftover from Radcliffe's horrible experiments.

Aida stepped back, foot thumping against the wall, warning her she couldn't retreat anymore. She lifted her chin. "I'm not scared of you," she said, voice quivering. Robbie said nothing, merely staring at her.

Something shifted in the corner of Jemma's eye; Fitz stood behind a sheeted cubicle, hefting a broken piece of pipe. "Oh, Fitz, no," Jemma murmured, and began shaking her head in hopes that he may see. He did, and his brow knit in confusion at the sight of her. Lifting his club, he pointed at Robbie and mimed swinging a baseball bat. She continued to shake her head adamantly. He gave her a pointed look, and turned. "No. Fitz!" she hissed, louder than intended.

Robbie turned around, and spied Fitz wielding the pipe. In the moment of distraction, Jemma creeped towards him, while Aida cried, "Leopold! Help me!"

Fitz made as though to charge them, when the Ghost Rider stomped his foot. A line of fire sprang from the ground, heading straight towards Fitz.

"NO!" Jemma shrieked, and she leaped in front of him, pushing Fitz out of the way. She bat at the flames around her, but it was suffocating. The heat and light danced around her, growing so it was the only thing she could see. Her skin screamed in agony, before slowly, too slowly, black settled in, and she succumbed to the pain.

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Rapid beeping. Yelling EMTs. Flashing red and blue lights.

Everything filtered in her brain with little comprehension. Was Darth Vader there? Jemma could hear his breathing. There was something tight over her nose, keeping her breathing from full capacity. She tried to reach up to move the blockage, but her hand hit something and fell back to her side. "Miss, please don't remove the oxygen mask!" somebody yelled. Oxygen mask?

The gurney jostled, and a shadow fell over Jemma's face as a figure stood above her. "Jemma? Jemma, are you okay?" Fitz asked worriedly. Jemma tried to answer, but her mouth was like cotton and her brain like syrup.

"Fi…"

Then it was black again.

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Jemma faded in and out of unconsciousness over the course of the next week, still too weak to stay awake for more than a couple minutes. As she was weaned off of the painkillers, she spent her time sleeping, especially as the pain became more prominent.

Friends, or maybe dreams, filtered throughout the long minutes. Some squeezed her hand, others planting a kiss on her forehead. Even Mack, and his daughter from the Framework showed up, although Jemma was fairly certain that had been a fantasy.

The first time she was finally full conscious, her immediate surprise was at the amount of flowers and sweets stacked up at her bedside table. She reached over to examine a box of chocolate, but the pale pile of bandages cloaking her hands made her freeze. Her eyes trailed up her sleeved arms, and the sensation of cotton against her neck was suddenly all too noticeable. Shaking, she felt her face, then cringed. It wasn't bandaged, but the skin felt raw.

As Jemma was pulling her hands down, a nurse walked in carrying a tray. "Miss Simmons," she smiled. "I see you're awake."

Jemma grinned weakly. "Yes, I am. How are you?"

"Good." The nurse placed the tray down. "But I should be asking you that."

"Oh," Jemma groaned. "I'm fine, I suppose. May I ask what my diagnosis is?"

The nurse chuckled. "They told me you were a doctor. Well, as far as I know," she said, confronting the clipboard tacked to the bedpost, "You have a range of first- and second-degree burns, with a couple third degree patches, although…" she trailed off, scanning the data. "Looks like you got a couple skin grafts to take care of that. Are you in any pain?"

"No, not currently."

"Good. You hungry?"

At Jemma's nod, she carefully set the tray over her lap, propping her up with pillows so she couldn't dribble. "For today's luncheon, you are being served the chef's special chicken noodle soup and cherry jello. We hope you enjoy it." She gave a mock bow. "If you need anything, you can call me with this," she added, pointing to a red switch, "and my name is Maria." She left.

Watery soup had never tasted so good. In her sleepy state, all she had been fed was the nutrients through a feeding tube; to eat true food, even a hospital meal, was a gift.

As she was digging in, there was a hesitant knock. "Jemma?"

She almost tipped her food over in excitement. "Fitz! You're here!"

He smiled shyly. "Yeah, Maria told me you woke up. That was ten minutes ago, though." At her puzzled frown, he elaborated. "I...was scared you wouldn't want to see me. I brought flowers," he blurted in a rush.

"Oh, Fitz." Jemma's voice softened. He stepped forward, closing the distance between the doorway and the bed. He set the flowers down with the others, and pulled up the visitor's chair next to her. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah," Fitz said, absent-mindedly taking her hand. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. "How are you feeling?"

Fitz sighed. "I'm managing, at the moment. You?"

Jemma waved it off. "I'm fine, other than physically." She shoveled another bit of the forgotten soup in her mouth, and gasped.

"What? Is it too hot?" Fitz asked, springing up.

"No! I can't believe I forgot. What happened with Aida?"

Fitz froze, before sinking back into the chair. "She's dead."

Eyes widening, Jemma's spoon plunked back into the soup bowl. "How did it happen? It was Robbie, right?"

Dragging his hand down his face, Fitz leaned back, pondering. "Yeah, I guess, but it wasn't really him. I don't think he even recognized us. I mean, look at what he did to you." He paused, and tenderly stroked her knuckle. "He said something to Aida about her sinning against mankind, and how she deserved to burn in hell for her transgressions. Then he just grabbed her and disappeared in a big ball of flame."

"Wait," Jemma said, pausing him. "How come she didn't just leave? Couldn't she have teleported out of there?" At his shrug, she continued. "She can do that, can't she?"

"She seemed pretty weak when we landed. Maybe that's why," he suggested. " After Robbie took her, you stopped burning, but it was pretty bad. How are you feeling?" he asked again.

She laughed. "You asked me already. I'm fine." She reached over to him and placed her hand against his face. Fitz tensed, but allowed her to graze his cheek, down to the corner of his neck and shoulder. "Fitz," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he breathed.

She gazed at him. "After Aida kidnapped you, she replaced you with an LMD, and...I killed it."

His fist curled around hers. "But I'm here right now. It wasn't me, see?"

"I know, but…" she hiccuped. "I'm sorry."

He squeezed her hand. "I should be the one apologizing."

"No, Fitz-"

"No, listen. I know that it was just a simulation, but it was still me in the simulation. I still killed those people! And you can't say it's just a-a piece of code or whatever, but there were real people in there! I killed Agnes!" This time, Jemma let the tears fall. Fitz was crying as well. "Please don't try to reassure me. It won't work!"

"Fitz, I can't even imagine what you are going through! I'm sorry," Jemma said. She inhaled a shuddery breath. "I just wish we could be happy." With a sad chuckle, she added "Maybe you were right when you said that the cosmos-"

The misery evaporated somewhat from the atmosphere. "Oh, come on, not the cosmos comment-"

Jemma started laughing, and then they were both cracking up. "It wasn't- even- that funny," Jemma gasped.

A minute later, they calmed down, but with the laughter gone, it was tense again.

"I've talked to Coulson and May, a little," Fitz admitted. "It's helped, especially what May said. You know, since she was HYDRA too."

"Well, I'm glad you're not alone," Jemma said.

"Hey. You're not alone either." He nudged her shoulder. "I'll be there with you, okay? I promise."

Jemma searched his eyes, and nodded. "Together."

"Together," Fitz agreed.


End file.
